Rose and Sword
by Lucky'linist333
Summary: When Christine and Raoul get in an accident, Christine realizes how much she truly loves Erik. She accepts his proposal and believes that she will live happily ever after, but Raoul gets jealous... Can she protect Erik from Raoul? Can she protect herself?
1. Reunited

AN: this phic is predominantly based on the musical/movie (which totally rocked my sox), it takes place pretty much before the Masquerade ball but after the rooftop scene.

…

The snow blew about me in heaps, biting into every inch of exposed skin. My cheeks felt as if needles were pricking all over. The pain was almost unbearable.

Raoul took my gloved hand, as if he sensed my discomfort. He placed a blanket upon my lap as he directed his team through the Bois. It was beautiful during a snowstorm. The trees were laced in white and the grounds looked like wig powder. This must have been my reasoning for allowing Raoul to take me out for a drive. I must have been crazy!

I sipped the wassail Raoul had given me, but it was cold. Huddling in my clothing, I moved closer to him, trying to share in his body heat. He put his arms around me.

Suddenly, the two horses reared. What had spooked them? Raoul struggled to contain them, but they would not settle. They set off at a break-neck speed. Raoul yanked at the reins, but to no avail as they snapped and broke.

I screamed. Blackness consumed my vision as I slowly felt myself drift off.

…

Something hot was poured down my throat, it tastes horrible and I tried to gag. But someone held my mouth shut, forcing me to swallow it. My eyes cleared away the fogginess that had covered them like a blanket.

Meg appeared before me, Mdme. Giry held my mouth shut.

"Christine, how are you feeling?" my friend asked.

"I'm fair, warm, and apparently well-taken care of," I smiled. "How is the Vicompte?" A cold stone of panic turned over in my stomach.

"He's at his estate, being likewise taken care of," Mdme. Giry replied, ladling more of the vile liquid into my mouth.

I was in my own bed in the opera's dormitories. Several of the ballet rats watched me, their eyes wide.

"What, why am I here? What happened to our ride?" I asked, sitting up.

"We, well, we don't know, only the Vicompte would know," Meg shrugged. She looked at her mother, lightning sparked between the two of them.

"What?" I asked.

"You've been given many 'get well' gifts," the woman replied. She shooed the rats away and stood up. "They have been placed by your bed if you wish to look at them," she nodded, leaving the room with Meg. Although I would have liked to sit with Meg, rather than be left alone.

I glance over at the mountainous pile. Flowers, books, chocolates, laced handkerchiefs, and even cards. Sighing, I shifted through the flowers, reading the attached notes, mostly from well-wishers. They all read something similar to 'get well soon; we all miss your stage performances'. A bouquet of roses with a black ribbon caught my attention.

After sorting the pile, (candies nearest the wall, books on the little shelf, flowers around the room, etc.) I dressed in my favorite blue dress and climbed down the stairs.

In my dressing room, the smell of flowers nearly overpowered me, coughing; I walked through the room and came to stand by the mirror. 'Please, please let him be here,' I thought. I slid my hands over the edges, trying to find an imperfection. None could be found.

"Angel, where are you?" I whispered, pushing against the glass. No response, nothing.

I sat down by the fireplace and stared into the flames. I heard the candle behind me flicker and sputter. My heart skipped a beat. I looked behind me…and nothing. Shadows filled the room as its tiny light went out. "Mon ange, what have I done?" I pleaded silently.

He spoke, his beautiful voice barely above a whisper. "Denied me, left my rose on the rooftop," he said, his words full of pain. How I longed to reach out to him and comfort his broken heart!

"Oh," the realization hit me. He had been there! How long, how much had he heard? I frantically thought.

"Have you nothing with which to reply?" he said acidly.

"I was frightened, Joseph Bouquet had been killed! You killed him!" I said, turning around to try and face him.

"You need not be afraid of me, others-yes, but you-no," he said calmingly.

"Raoul was there to calm me, he reassured me that I was in no danger!" I sobbed. "Was I to expect that…after what you had done, that you were not rash? You had killed once, would you have killed again?!" My tears fell upon my lap.

Silence, he said nothing. "Do you hate me?" he asked, whispering.

"No, I never hated you, I was just scared of what you had done," I replied turning back to the fire.

"Christine," he murmured. I felt his warm, gloved hands upon my neck. He removed the ring I had been wearing on a chain.

"Erik, please, I am sorry for the pain I have caused you," I whispered, putting my hand on his. I felt the fire go out, and the heat left the room. I could feel his cloak being draped over my shoulders. I stood and crossed over to the mirror. A note lie at its base.

_Christine, Would you please meet me in the cellars? I have something I believe you would like.  
__OG_

He left? How could I not hear him? I thought as I ran to the cellars, his scent filling my nose. I clutched his garment to me, trying to visualize him.

When I arrived, the tiny little cymbals monkey was on the floor. My angel wasn't even there. Grasping the music box, I returned to my room solemnly. I placed the monkey on my nightstand and folded his cloak and placed it under my blankets.

A knock came at my door. "Christine?" a man's voice called. 'Raoul!" I started. I dabbed rose water on my neck, then opened the door.

He limped through, his one leg bandaged. "My love," he smiled. He kissed my cheek. I smiled weakly.

Suddenly, his face fell. "Christine, why aren't you wearing my ring?" he asked.

My hand flew to my neck. Erik had taken it off! What was I to tell him? "Oh no, I…I must have lost it in the accident!" I lied quickly.

His grin reappeared, "As long as you are safe, my dear." He sat down on my bed; his leg was obviously paining him. "As you see, I myself have fared far worse than you, darling."

His grin annoyed me, made me want to run. "Why have you come to visit me, Raoul?" I asked.

"I would like to escort you to the New Year's Masquerade Ball, of course!" he smiled.

"Oh, I…" I started. How could I say no to him? He wouldn't take a 'no' as his answer if I didn't explain. What could I do?

"It's quite alright if you need time to think about it, I know you just awoke today, dear," he said. When I said nothing, he stood up. "I must leave now," he kissed my hand.

After he left, I sat on my bed, thinking. I pulled the cloak out from under my pillow and fell asleep with it over me.

…

I listened as he invited her to the ball. My heart wrenched. Why should she wish to be with me? He would take her on rides and to balls and to parties. I could only offer her a house under the opera.

He left, thankfully. I could hear her settling on her bed, she was pulling something out from under another something. Her peaceful breathing reached my ears. She was muttering something. I could just barely make it out, it sounded like 'Erik' and 'mon ange' and 'love'. What is this twisted torture?

I crept around to get a better place. Here the place actually had a hole in the wood. I looked in and could see her on the bed. My coat was pulled over her delicate shoulders. My heart filled with joy.

I opened the door to her room and slipped in. She stirred from her nap. She looked around.

…

I opened my eyes and felt a change in the air. Erik stood by the door. His face was hidden in shadow.

I quickly got up and ran to him. His arms welcomed me, and I knew that this was where I was supposed to be. His hand fastened the cloak around me. "Erik, why weren't you in the cellar? You had asked me to go there?" I asked, pulling myself closer to his chest, inhaling his scent.

He didn't say anything. He just placed his arms around me. He kissed my hair and I could feel his breath, whispering something that I couldn't hear. I closed my eyes and felt him take my hand. The glove's leather was warm against my skin. When I opened my eyes again, we were in his house. I smiled up at him, happier than I had been in a while.

"Erik, I love you," I whispered as I leaned into him, feeling him tense at my words. He picked me up and looked straight into my eyes.

"I always have, Christine," he whispered. I leaned in and put my lips on his. He gasped, caught unaware. Coyly, I played with his black hair, curling it in my fingers.

He relaxed and began to kiss me back, softly at first, but slowly with a bridled passion. After a few minutes of bliss, we broke apart. A single tear rolled down his face. Quickly, he wiped it away, making me believe that it had never been there. He took my hand and slipped a small ring with red, almost blood red, ruby on my finger. An engagement ring…

I looked up at him and smiled, adjusting his hair. He walked over to his organ and grabbed a sheet of music and threw it in the fire.

"What did you do that for?" I asked him. The paper curled in the fire and shrank.

"It was a bad piece," he explained. His voice lulled me. Reaching out to me, caressing. "I was having a bit of, what you might call 'writers' bloc'," he smiled, his twisted lips stretching.

I gazed around; the place had changed little since I had last been here. Yet, it was cleaner. I smiled, thinking of what I could do to make the place more welcoming if I married him. Some flowers, maybe a painting or two…

Erik took his cloak from around me and crossed the room where he placed it on a hook. A fire crackled merrily by the organ, casting a peculiar glow on the room.

"Erik, your house looks magnificent," I whispered, "I can barely remember seeing it last time I was here." I smiled.

He took me into his arms and showed me the rooms I had never been to. There was a little study with three bookshelves full of old books, some sort of a dining room, what looked like a master bedroom-most likely Erik's room, and a drawing room with plump couches and a chessboard.

"It's…it's wonderful! How did you build all of this in such a tiny space?" I asked, astounded at the grandeur.

"I built the Opera Populaire," he said modestly. " I designed this place myself."

I smiled and sat down in front of the chessboard. The strange pieces stood in a four rows, the white on one side, the black on another. "You play?" I asked.

"Yes, do you?" he replied, his eyes sparkling.

"No, I was never taught," I said, fingering a piece with a cross on the top, this was obviously the tallest and probably most important piece.

"Shall I teach you?" he asked, sitting down in front of me.

AN: Any questions? Any remarks or _positive_ criticism? Please tell me in your review :wink, wink, nudge, nudge: Uhm...off to a slow start, but _will_ pick up! I swear!


	2. Raoul's Reaction

Chapter 2

I spent at the most, four days with Erik. He was kind and gentle, the exact opposite of what I had feared on the rooftop. Why did I allow myself to be wooed by Raoul when the man I love was here all along?

His house was an unending source of entertainment for me. Though, there were only six rooms. He started to teach me how to play chess; most of our lessons ended in laughter, I truly can't play.

But our happy time could only last for so long… After the fifth day, Erik told me that I needed to go back to the Opera. I needed to keep singing, or someone would get suspicious. I had a strange feeling he wasn't talking about the gossips.

I stepped through the mirror and into my dressing room, only to see Raoul there, waiting for me.

"Christine, darling!" he said, relieved. He pulled me into an embrace, nearly sweeping me off of the floor. " I knew you'd escape from that monster! How brave you are, my little Lotte!"

I stiffened at his words. Escape? Monster? I had gone with Erik, and left willingly! Who was he to say that I was held there, like a prisoner? I pushed away from him.

"Raoul, I didn't escape, I left my house to come back. It's only temporary," I said. "I'm…I'm engaged." There, I told him.

"Yes, dear, to me!" he smiled. He pulled out a ring from his coat pocket. "I bought you a ring, to replace the one that was lost."

I shook my head. Holding my hand up to his face, I said, "Raoul, I'm already engaged." My voice shook with fear, but I knew he couldn't hurt me.

"Please, don't play with me! You couldn't hardly be engaged to be married to that mask of death!" he laughed, pushing my hand away. He tried to pull the red ring off, but it stuck. He yanked harder.

"Raoul! Stop, that hurts!" I said, trying to pull my hand back. He held tight and pulled harder. It didn't budge.

"How dare that man take you from me!" he yelled in frustration.

"He didn't take me from you, I went of my own accord!" I shouted back. "He loves me, and, and, I love him!"

"No, you don't, you love me!" Raoul said angrily.

"My dear Vicompte, my little angel has said that she doesn't love you, would you be so kind as to step aside from _my_ fiancé?" Erik's voice echoed around us.

But he didn't, he pulled me against him, his hand around my shoulders. He was using me to shield him!

Erik stepped through the mirror, gliding into the room like a silken shadow. Raoul's grip tightened.

"You monster, you've poisoned my Christine!" he shouted.

"Oh, how wrong you are. Who is the one using Christine as a shield to save his own pathetic life? Clearly, it is you, good monsieur who has poisoned Christine with your 'little Lotte' talk," his voice said, full of contempt.

"No, no," Raoul whispered as he stepped towards the door. " I didn't scare her to her wits' end, that night. During _Il Muto_? Remember?" he sneered.

"Raoul, you're scaring me now," I said as calmly as I could.

"Hush, little Lotte!" he barked. Frustration boiled in me. 'How dare you use that name?! That was my father's nickname for me!' I thought to myself.

"Raoul, let go!" I said, clawing into his hand. He held me tightly and reached back to open the door. It was locked.

"What? I walked in not ten minutes ago!" he said astonished.

Erik held the key in front of him, tauntingly. Raoul would have to let go of me to grab it. Minutes went by as the Vicompte tried to think of a way to work around his predicament. This was going too slow. I stepped on his toe, crushing the new leather.

The Vicompte moaned in pain but would not relinquish me. I stepped harder.

"Let me go," I whispered to him. His arm moved forward an inch, enough to allow me to move my head.

"Christine, darling, do you want to hurt the man you are engaged to?" he asked, trying to keep his voice level.

"But how can I? Erik is more than four feet away from me," I asked in a girlish voice.

Erik smiled.

Raoul finally made the decision to release me. He grabbed the key and tried it in the lock. It didn't work.

"You fool! You gave me the wrong key!" Raoul shouted.

"No, you are the fool. Did you think that I would give you the _right_ key?" my love smirked. How smart he was!

I reached behind me and grabbed a vase full of flowers. Quickly, I emptied the vase and threw it at Raoul, hitting the wall next to him.

"Missed." He smiled as he stepped away from the broken shards.

"But I won't," Erik said. He took another vase and dashed the side of Raoul's face with it. Blood trickled down his cheek. He collapsed in a heap.

"What do we do now?" I asked. "We certainly have to get him taken care of."

"Does dumping his body in the Seine count?" Erik asked, humor edging his speech. I laughed, briefly.

Erik took Raoul's limp body and slung it over his shoulder. He walked through the Opera house, which was oddly deserted, until he got to the foyer. There he stood Raoul up on the steps and pushed him down, making it look like a fall. When he reached the bottom, Erik pulled out a hipflask and dumped the contents on Raoul's head. The scent of brandy floated up to me.

"I'm beginning to wonder where you learned this," I said, bemused. "Surely, the Sorbonne doesn't teach men how to stage an accident."

He reached for my hand. "Mon ange, do not assume that I learned that anywhere," he kissed it. When I opened my eyes, he was gone. Disappearing like the shadows when candles are lit.

Meg's voice echoed around me. "Mon dieu! What happened?" she said, her voice wavering.

My mind was spinning. "We…we were going out for a drive, then, he, he just fell!" I lied quickly. "I believe he was drunk!" I said.

Meg believed my story and ran to get help. I glided down the steps and tried to lift Raoul's head and put his coat underneath it. Meg returned with Mdme. Giry and the managers. Firman contacted Raoul's manservant and waited with Mdme. Giry until he was picked up.

Meg and I walked to the stage, where the dancers were practicing for a new production. "You missed the last four practices, Christine," she whispered to me. "You will have to work hard to catch up, Mama wouldn't tell me where you were!" She tied her hair up in a bun.

"Oh, I'll have to work hard indeed," I whispered back.

…

Three days, and many grueling rehearsals, later, I saw Raoul. My mind raced and I panicked. What was I to do?

He walked into the foyer-the same one he 'fell' down in-and greeted me warmly.

"Raoul…how are you?" I asked slowly.

"Fine, just trying to get my bearings," he smiled jovially.

"Don't you remember what happened?" I asked slowly.

"No, from what I've heard, we were going out for a drive, I was drunk, and I fell down these steps," he said, gesturing to the marble steps.

"Oh, then you've heard the truth," I smiled. This was the good Raoul, the one that wasn't consumed with jealousy and anger. My friend.

"Yes, I've come to see if you have an answer to my invitation, the Masquerade?" he said mildly.

"Oh, I haven't given it much thought, there have been so many practices! I'm sorry, I don't have a reply for you Raoul," I answered, honestly for once.

"Then I shall wait one more day," he smiled as he kissed my hand.

I curtsied briefly before running up the stairs.

…

"He asked you to the Masquerade?" Meg asked me. "What did you tell him?" She was eager to listen to me.

"I said I didn't have an answer," I shrugged.

"Christine!" she gaped. "It doesn't take a girl this long to make up her mind about going to a party with a handsome Vicompte!" She giggled.

"Meg, but I don't know if I'm going in the first place," I said. "I've never thought of Raoul in any other terms than childhood friend."

"But, Christine, he's so kind, he really does love you!" Meg said.

"By the way you speak, it sounds as if you want to go with him!" I laughed.

Meg said nothing, for once.

"I'm speechless! Meg, you could make my entire problem go away!" I grinned.

"No, Christine, you aren't supposing that I-" she started.

"He wouldn't mind, if I tell him the truth…" I trailed off.

I told him my answer that night, after practice. "Raoul, I've never thought of us as anything more than friends. I kindly decline your invitation. …But, my friend Meg Giry, have you met? She is sweet on you." I teased him.

His grin reappeared when I mentioned her. He thanked me for my reply and ran off to find Meg.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I sat down on a couch in my dressing room. It had all went to plan, Raoul wasn't angry at me and Meg was going to the Ball with Raoul. It was all perfect, except…I didn't expect Erik to take her to the New Year's party. He wasn't social. He didn't even like dancing as far as I knew!

As if he had been waiting for me, Erik slipped out of the mirror. "My angel, what is bothering you?" he asked tenderly, sitting down beside me.

"I'm just worried, Raoul doesn't remember a thing, but is that good? He knew about the engagement, what will happen when I tell him again? Will he react the same way?" I said to him. "Erik, I don't want to have to hide this."

"You're right, which is why we'll go to the Masquerade together," he said softly, kissing my forehead. His hand enveloped mine, assuring me of his affection.

"But, what will-" I started, but was quieted when Erik spoke.

"You said that you didn't want to have to hide this, so why not make it known?" he asked. "Unless you are ashamed." His voice fell to barely above a whisper.

"Erik, I would never dream of such feelings," I said as I looked into his yellow eyes. "I keep saying I love you, when will you believe it?"

"I'm not sure I ever will, it seems to good to be real," he whispered. "Christine" he murmured. "How could you be happy with me? I can't offer you the things you deserve," he said.

"Why do you think I am unhappy? I wouldn't have my life go any other way," I replied. I placed my arms around him, feeling his accelerated heart beat. I closed my eyes and my lips found his. This kiss was longer than the last. I enjoyed it and, by the response from Erik, so did he.

"Erik, please, never say that I deserve better," I whispered to him.

"To the Masquerade?" he asked, his hand on my shoulder. He hugged me close to him, I could feel his heart beating.

"To the Masquerade," I responded. May Raoul's emotions be damned, he hadn't stopped me from loving Erik, and he never would.

AN: So, Christine might seem a little OoC, but I'm just sick and tired of seeing her as this dumb ninny with no personal thoughts.


	3. Masquerade's Mishap

Chapter 3

The Masquerade's music reached my ears as I ascended the steps to my dressing room. Erik's footsteps soundlessly followed me.

I had tried to tell him that blending in would help us not stand out, but he had insisted upon wearing the costume of red death. I myself was in a creamy dress with a modest neckline and full skirts.

We stepped into my dressing room. I could feel his intake of breath, like a swimmer does right before a plunge. I nervously fidgeted with my mask before taking Erik's outstretched arm.

"I hope you enjoy yourself tonight, mon cherié," he whispered to me. I smiled through my mask.

Slowly, we descended the steps into the throng of guests. I easily picked out Raoul. He was laughing with Meg. He was wearing blue.

"Always enjoys being flamboyant," Erik muttered.

People's gazes followed us. I could feel them, staring at Erik's costume. He seemed to enjoy this, and guided me to stand right next to Raoul and Meg.

"Meg, Raoul, how do you fare?" I asked, as Erik melted away.

"Fine," Meg said cheerfully. But her hands betrayed her, they always had. They were shaking at her sides. Fear.

"Yes, this is quite a party, c'est ne pas?" Raoul said, gazing at the swirling dancers.

"Truly lovely," I said.

"I see you have come unaccompanied," Raoul pointed out mildly.

I replied in silence. He would not win this unknown battle of wits.

Meg attempted to break the awkward moment. "I would love to dance," she said, her voice implying that she wanted to get Raoul away from me.

"As would I," Raoul replied, giving me one last look.

Meg and Raoul joined in the dancing. Every few turns, Raoul would look over my head. Meg's hands still performed their anxious dance.

"Why is your friend so nervous?" Erik's voice whispered behind me.

"I can't think of any reason," I said, turning to face him. " But Raoul is likewise, acting strangely."

He took my hand and led me out into the dance. The musicians in the balcony above played a waltz. Erik guided me with expertise. Faking accidents, dancing, where did he learn these things if, like Mdme. Giry had said, he'd never left the Opera Populaire? What other things were yet to be discovered about him?

"You're tense," he muttered.

"I'm bothered by Meg, she's never nervous around Raoul," I thought.

"If you're uncomfortable, we can always leave," he said to me.

"No, but I do need to leave the room," I replied.

He smiled and took my hand. We walked, almost waded, through the people. Up the staircase, and onto another balcony, we finally settled down on the bench. A torch lit a small portion of it, but Erik waved his hand over it, and it extinguished itself.

The night silkily settled itself around us. Erik wrapped his arms around me, and I took solace in him.

I don't know how long we were there, the two of us. But suddenly, we heard a person coming up the stairs. Meg appeared before us, her face white.

"Christine, I came to warn you! Raoul-" she started, but was cut off when the Vicompte appeared behind her and covered her mouth.

"Quiet!" he growled.

Meg whimpered into his gauntlet.

Erik's grip tightened. I could feel his tension; he was waiting for Raoul to make the next move. I stood up, my face firm.

"Raoul, let her go, she has no part in this," I said angrily.

"Oh, but she does," he stated. "You see, if I threaten to kill your friend," he drew a finger across her throat, "then you will give in and leave this monster!"

Meg's hands stopped their wild dance. She was as still as a board, it looked like she had fainted.

"You're despicable!" I gasped.

"No, _you're_ despicable, my dear!" he replied. "You think I did not remember that scene in the dressing room, you think I wouldn't be able to recognize the truth?" he hissed, still holding onto Meg. "Did you even dare to think that I would not know that you were lying about the fall?"

Erik stood up. "Monsieur," he addressed Raoul, "I do believe that, time and again, Christine had chosen me. Give in, how could she want to be with a man who has to kill her best friend to _force_ her to love him?" he snarled.

Suddenly, Meg's elbow smashed into the Vicompte's chest. He gasped and staggered backward, giving me just enough time to grab Meg.

"Christine, forgive me," Raoul pleaded, his breath ragged.

"Why should I?" I asked. "I have mercy enough to let you live, but I will not forgive you."

Erik jerked Raoul up and forced him down onto the bench, roughly. "I'll thank you not to be a nuisance," he said to a huddled Raoul.

Raoul sat there complacently for a minute. Quickly, he drew a pistol and cocked it. He stood up and aimed at Erik's head.

"You have only one bullet monsieur, there are three of us," Erik said in a nonchalant manner.

"Then I would be well advised to put it where it would do the most harm," he growled.

I could see Erik brace himself for the impact. The moment seemed to freeze; it was as if Raoul was bracing himself for the actual deed. Meg sobbed into my shoulder, terrified.

A loud bang went off and pain ripped through my shoulder. Meg screamed. Erik knelt down beside me. The searing pain rippled through my limb, numbness following.

"Christine," he murmured. He took his kerchief and pressed it to the wound. "Christine, Christine."

Meg propped my head up, smoothing away my hair. She hummed some song, peaceful in its melody.

My eyes threatened to shut, how tired I suddenly was!

Erik stood up and turned to follow Raoul. He'd run after the gun went off.

"Erik, no, let him run," I moaned. He growled and sat back down beside me.

"Doctor, we need a doctor, monsieur-" Meg said.

"Yes, go get one, ask your mother to show you where I live, I will bring her down," Erik said, scooping me into his arms.

His warmth comforted me. In his arms, I passed out.

AN: sorry, had a little Count of Monte Cristo moment back there (the movie). Cliffhanger? Yes…unless you review, _and_ my other phan-phic _An Ending that Cannot be Avoided_, then nothing good will come of this! :Laughs evilly: Love ya!


	4. Recovery and Loss

Chapter 4

"I can't say, she may or may not use that limb again," the doctor told me.

I thanked the doctor and paid him. I swept back to where Christine lay. Meg was asleep on a chaise. Christine's shoulder was bandaged. The poor fool, I will hunt him down!

Hours pass meaninglessly, Meg and I waited while Christine slept. The doctor said this might happen, but I still was impatient. I always have been. Meg and I have become good friends. She is so much like her mother, patient and kind. She has been a priceless companion in this unending wait.

…

Christine finally awoke! Erik stayed by her bedside and whispered sweet things to her. I was decent enough to give them their privacy. Back to the world of light I went.

The night's events were too much for me, Raoul asking me, then dancing with me, then telling me his plan, then, threatening to kill me, then shooting Christine! Oh, no wonder mama always complained of headaches. If she knew everything about Erik, then she must have one every waking moment!

I dressed for bed and fell onto it, not bothering to pull the covers over me.

…

Erik knocked at my door. It has been three days since I woke up, my shoulder was still sore, but luckily, it was still working.

I opened the door and stepped out. Today I was to return to rehearsals for the opera. Although, I would have loved to stay here, Erik said that I must return.

"Angel," he said softly as he took my hand.

I allowed him to guide me up to the mirror. When we reached the border, I turned to him.

"Be careful," I advised him. "I couldn't stand it if I lost you."

"Christine, the same applies to you, Raoul is still out there." He closed the mirror behind me.

I quickly walked to my room. I could hear the men warming up and practicing.

Meg saw me and quickly ran to give me a hug.

"How are you?" she asked, smiling.

"I'm fine, just a little sore." I tied my hair in a bun.

"Raoul hasn't been seen since the Masquerade, he doesn't come to the shows anymore," Meg whispered, tying my costume's straps.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yes, he must be petrified that he has earned the phantom's wrath!" she said gravely.

"He should be," was all I could say. If he was willing to shoot an unarmed woman to get away, then he deserved Erik's anger.

Mdme. Giry broke up our discussion and began giving orders sharply. Quickly, we stretched and went through our warm-ups.

…

That night, Raoul was seen at the opera. I looked out from behind the curtain and saw him sitting in box five. 'Hadn't the managers learned? Oh, what would Erik do? He wouldn't let this go easily!'

The opera went on as planned, Carlotta annoyed everyone with her complaints of losing the diva position, the ballet rats got underfoot, and the crowd cheered as if nothing was wrong. 'Where was Erik?'

Raoul caught my eye. His face was impassive, as if he had never hurt me! He had pulled this trick too often.

After the curtain fell, I pelted to the dressing room. I had hoped to get changed and leave before anyone could come and congratulate me.

A knock came at the door. 'Should I answer it?' I tried to ignore the person and kept tying my bodice.

The knock came again, more forcefully. I looked at the mirror. There was no way I could escape.

I turned the knob and felt the door being pushed against me.

"Christine!" a man's voice barked, a man's voice that I knew all too well.

'Maybe I could stay hidden behind this door.' It was no use; Raoul pulled the door closed.

"We need to talk," he growled.

…

"We need to talk," that fop growled.

I seethed silently behind my mask. 'What stupid thing would he do now?' I wondered. I watched behind the mirror, anxious to save Christine.

"Raoul, please leave," she said in a calm voice.

'Brava, petite ange!' I thought.

"No, I need to explain the other night," he replied.

"What is there to explain? You shot me! I was willing to forgive you for using me as a human shield, but this is too much!" she told him. "I thought you said that you would never harm me!" Her face was split between anger and betrayal.

"No, I never would harm you!" he answered quickly. "I missed."

"You never miss! You purposefully shot me so you could get away! How dare you, Vicomte?" she hissed.

'Such a temper, such spirit!' I thought.

"Christine, how could you betray me?" he asked pitifully.

"Betray _you_! How about _you_ betraying _me_!" she shouted at him. "Raoul, you literally took a gun, cocked it, and put a bullet in my shoulder! I will never forgive you! Now, leave!" And with that, she pushed him out of the door.

He put his weight against her and pushed his way back into the room.

"Christine, he is a monster! He will do worse to you than I have ever done!" Raoul shouted.

"Oh, really? He's a monster? Raoul, leave now!" she gestured at the door.

I couldn't bear to listen to this anymore. I stepped out of the mirror.

"You!" the Vicomte gasped.

"Raoul, please leave, before anything bad happens!" Christine pleaded with him.

"Bad, but these past two weeks have been nothing but bad! And it all started with him!" Raoul growled, pointing at me.

"Why must you insist upon dragging Erik in?" Christine asked.

"He started it all, the accident." The Vicomte straightened his vest.

"How?" Christine demanded. "The horses were frightened and you lost control!"

I shifted nervously.

"Ah, but what would frighten horses on a winter day?" Raoul asked.

"Animals, strange sounds," Christine said.

"Or, the Opera Ghost hiding along the path!" Raoul accused.

"Erik never ventures outside of the Opera Populaire," she said, her face paling.

"Dear Lotte, you immediately fell into a slumber, but I managed to glimpse the footprints before losing consciousness myself," the Vicomte said. "And I ask myself, who would despise our relationship so much that he would harm us?"

Christine looked at me. I had nothing to say.

"Erik?" she pleaded, her voice quavering.

"See? He has nothing with which to defend himself! He is a monster, and unworthy of your affections!" Raoul was very pleased with himself, having turned the tables on me. He had broken my 'spell', or what he had perceived to be a spell. "Come, little Lotte," Raoul ordered.

Christine's gaze shifted between Raoul and myself. "Erik, say something!" she pleaded, her voice sounded hurt.

"Christine, please you must understand," I tried to explain.

"Christine, come," the Vicomte said again.

"No, I can't trust either one of you!" she said. She turned and faced Raoul, "you fired on me!" she faced me, "and you tricked me! I'm going up to my room!" She shoved Raoul out of the way and quickly ascended the stairs.

Raoul withdrew from the room, leaving me alone. 'How had I gone from her lover and protector to this?' I thought.

…

'Erik! How could he?' I asked myself as I sobbed into my pillow. I don't know how long I was there for, trying to console myself. My shoulders shook as tears racked my body. 'Raoul, I could understand, but Erik?'

Meg tiptoed into my room. Quietly, she put a hand on my arm.

"Christine, what's wrong?" she asked softly.

"I'm so very frustrated," I whispered.

"Is it about Raoul?" she asked.

"In a way, but it is also about Erik," I said, sitting up. She wiped my cheek and smiled.

"It's alright, Christine. It's just you and me," she soothed.

"I feel so…so naïve! I've allowed my emotions to take control," I said.

"Come have chocolate with me, then you're going to bed early," Meg announced.

"Oh, alright!" I smiled.

Meg closed my door and allowed me to dress. I could hear her footsteps fading and knew that she had gone to prepare the hot beverage.

I tied my robe on and followed the steps to the ballet corps' little common room. As I passed the stairs, I heard a cloak rustle and felt someone press a cloth to my nose. I tried not to breathe, but eventually had to, inhaling some kind of drug.

…

I sat at my organ. I had never meant to reveal the fact that I had spooked the horses. I just needed to get Christine away from her smothering fop.

Now, my sabotage had cost me the very thing I had wanted most-Christine's love. She would never trust me again. 'How was I going to fix this?' I raged silently.

Music evaded me; I couldn't write anything. I was so agitated at myself! Just six days ago I had held Christine in my arms and comforted her. Depression settled upon me like a dark, heavy cloud.

The next day I visited the mirror, only to find a note on the ground. The writing was curly and overly dramatic.

_Monster,_

_I have taken Christine to a safe place,_

_Do not try to rescue her,_

_She has chosen me over you,_

_Although she does not know it yet_

_If you come, I will kill you_

_Finally_

_Vicomte Raoul de Chagny_

I sank to the floor. 'A safe place? Would that be the Chagny estate?' I wondered. I had never been there, but from people's descriptions, it wasn't very far from Paris. Meg might be able to help me.

'She has chosen me over you-though she doesn't know it yet?' I wondered. 'This brash young man is as vain as Carlotta! He would assume that Christine would chose him?' I chuckled to myself.

I stood up and ran off to find Meg, or Mdme. Giry.

AN: Yes, Raoul is vain. This is kind of turning the tables on the ending. Instead of the scorpion or the grasshopper, I'm thinking something like the title (which I recently changed-along with my penname!): the rose or the sword. I dunno; let me hear what you think! Reviews please!

_Maglenan Songbird_


	5. Exasperation

Chapter 5

A rap came at my door. I put my mug down as I hastened to tie my robe over my wool nightdress. Parisian mornings are very chilly.

"Hello?" I asked, the door opening towards me.

"Mademoiselle Meg, good, you're here! I need your help!" Erik stood before me, the light glinting off of his mask.

"Is this about Christine? Have you heard from her?" I asked, frantically showing Erik in.

"You knew?" he asked.

"Knew what? That she was gone?" I replied.

"Of course, mademoiselle Giry," he said.

"She just left, one minute we were going to have chocolate, and the next-she was gone," I said, sipping my tea. "I just assumed that she had left me and gone to another place-like your labyrinth or the Chagny estate."

"In the middle of the night?" he asked.

"I don't know! She's become very peculiar since she met you. I didn't want to worry over nothing!" I sat down.

"_This_ is nothing!" Erik asked, shoving a piece of paper to me.

I read the brief letter. Slowly, Erik's reaction made sense. "A safe place?" I asked, looking up at him.

"I assumed he meant the Chagny estate, I wouldn't put it past theman to reveal the secrets of France to the Americans!" he said, exasperated.

"Monsieur, there's no need for insults," I said, reprimanding him. "You are probably right, he might've meant the Chagny grounds. But he can be clever."

"Yes, involving matters of colors and fabric, I believe so," he growled. "But I don't know where the Chagny estate is, I need you to show me where."

I nodded and moved to my room. Quickly, I changed into a dress as Erik waited patiently.

We took the back way down the steps. Hurriedly, Erik hailed a hansom and team.

"Which way to the estate?" he asked, pulling his hood over his head.

"Follow the Seine until you pass Mdme. Florence's dress boutique, then turn left," I said quickly, jumping as the horses sprung to life.

The ride was silent, but it's not like there was anything to say. We passed Mdme. Florence's shop, the windows shining out in this bleak night. After twenty minutes or so, we turned onto the Chagny drive.

The house was black. Slowly, we pulled up to the door. I jumped out and ran to it, pounding as hard as I could. A small boy pulled the heavy door open.

"May I be of service to you?" he asked politely.

"I'm looking for the Vicomte," I said quickly.

"He's out of town," the boy replied.

"Could you tell me where?" I asked, wringing my hands.

"Honestly, I'm not supposed to tell anyone," he said meekly.

"Oh, please," I begged.

"Well…"

"I'll give you ten francs!" I offered, hoping to bribe the child.

"Alright, he's headed to Marseilles," the boy answered, his face glowing at the prospect of money.

"Marseilles!" I cried.

"Yes, mademoiselle, the family owns a flat there," he answered.

I thanked him and returned back to Erik.

"La cote d'azur? He took her to _la cote d'azur_?" Erik asked, incredulously. (AN: la cote d'azur translates to something like the gold coast or blue coast, mainly it refers to the French Riviera)

"Yes," I replied quietly.

"Train," he said quickly. "The train station."

…

I woke up, feeling the warm sun splash on my face. 'Warm sun?' I wondered. 'Since when do I have an east-facing window?'

I sat up. I could hear the low rumble of water upon the shore. River? Sea? Where was I? The room was small, one window facing the east and a wash table to my left.

Altogether it wasn't a bad room, until someone walked in.

"Good, you're up," a man's voice said behind me.

'No, it can_not_ be him!' I thought, keeping my face towards the sun.

I felt him walk up to me and sit by me on the bed. I quickly scooted down a few centimeters, trying to get away from him.

"Come, now. You are safe with me, I will not harm you," the man whispered to me.

I scoffed. "Harm me?" I laughed.

He was silent for a moment.

"Christine, I love you, I never meant to give you pain," he pleaded.

My heart was turned against him; he would never be forgiven for this!

"Christine, face me," he commanded.

"No," I said, simply.

He got up and crouched down in front of my face. I stared straight into his eyes.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"To be left alone, and maybe go home!" I responded icily.

"You are home," he said as he gestured to the room.

"Here? No."

"This is my summer flat," he shrugged.

"I don't care if it's a palace! The Seine is better than this! I'd rather live with gypsies!" I hurled at him bitterly.

"Christine, your little ghost is never going to come! He has never been outside of the Opera! How do you expect him to travel here? Fly? Just…appear?" he asked in exasperation.

"Go away."

"No, you are joining me for breakfast," he said smoothly.

"Not hungry."

"You will have breakfast with me," he repeated.

"I'm fine, thank you."

He took my shoulder in a firm, yet gentle grip and escorted me out onto the terrace.

…

Meg and I boarded the train. It would take us four hours to reach Marseilles. I should have Christine back in my arms by nightfall.

A loud whistle reached my ears. Quickly, I pulled the hood tighter over my head, trying to block out the noise.

The train jumped into movement.

"Do you have a plan, once we get to Marseilles, monsieur?" Meg asked.

"It is a long train ride," I said, "I will have one worked out by the time we stop."

Meg nodded and stared out of the window.

'Plan? Up until last night, I had been perfectly at peace. Come dawn, Christine was gone and I had bought a train ticket!' I sighed. 'Flat? Well it must be in the more attractive side of Marseilles. Most likely by the shore.'

I felt myself being lulled to sleep by the motion of the train. Before I knew it, the train was whistling loudly. Meg shook herself and stood up.

Walking off of the train platform, Meg and I shifted nervously, unsure of where to go. We eventually headed toward a little café.

"What are we going to do?" Meg asked as we sat down. "We didn't even ask that little brat where the house was!" She looked exhausted.

The garçon walked up to our table; quickly I placed an order for two _café au laits_. Before he left, Meg spoke up.

"How well do you know this area?" she asked.

"Very well, I can give you directions to anywhere you wish to go," he replied.

"The Chagny residence?" she inquired.

"Vicomte Chagny? I know him, but I do not know where he lives," the young man replied.

"Is there anyone who would?" I asked.

The man turned around and shouted. Quickly, a young boy came trotting up behind him.

"Yes, Leòn?" the boy asked.

"They need to find the Chagny residence, would you be so kind as to tell them where to go?" the waiter asked.

"I'll show them!"

"That would be wonderful!" Meg said, standing up.

"What about your drinks?" Leòn asked.

I handed him a ten-franc note and proceeded to follow the boy.

…

I stared out at the waves, my croissant and chocolate completely forgotten. I felt as if I were detached from my body. As if I was a spirit, just floating around.

"Christine, the least you can do is pay me some attention!" Raoul sighed. "I love you, doesn't that count for something?"

'Doesn't that count for something?' his words echoed in my minds. 'Yes, it counted-for pain and heartbreak.' I thought.

I heard him sigh. "Christine, this was never meant to happen. If _he_ hadn't interfered, you would have happily married me. Can we not pretend that these past weeks never existed?" He sipped his coffee.

'Never existed?' I thought to myself. I looked straight into his eyes. A sorrowful, loving person looked back at me. 'He really does love me, he has just made so many mistakes.' I had a sickening feeling that Erik wouldn't leave the sanctuary of the Opera. Why should I deny Raoul? My thoughts floated, dazed and confused.

"I…I need time, Raoul. You can't expect me to overlook your behavior recently. I need to adjust."

AN: Oops! Christine is coming this close to giving in:Tries to go back and delete, but just can't: Trust me, this is necessary to the plot! I _can_ tell you that someone ends up dying…(cliffie?) Review, please-I'm almost ready to wrap this up. Maybe like...three chapters left.


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